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A strange day

Today has been a strange day – writing wise. It’s also been a strange day weather-wise. We woke to hail, which turned to snow, which melted into a trecherous kind of slush. Getting up the drive was fun. Festa, the Fiesta didn’t want to know, kept stalling on the bend. We gave up after the 4th attempt and changed to Fox, the VW. Fox laughed in the face of the pitiful excuse for snow and I took mum into Wrexham for a coffee and to have some us time.

On return, I returned to my research. A kidney is being disected. It’s cancerous. An aside that had me wandering around T’internet for quite some time. A friend of mine’s been reading a book set in the 1920’s. He was all righteous indignation when one of the characters told another to “stay safe and under the radar.” Being he reads my books I wanted to check out whether a biopsy could be conducted on said tumorous kidney.

Fortunately, it could.

Biopsy* came into medical terminology in 1879 – coined from the Greek Bios (life) and opsis (sight) by Ernest Besnier a French doctor born in Honfleur in 1831. His main field of expertise was determatology though he was considered something of an expert in rhumatics. Strangely, Besnier didn’t conduct the first biopsy. That occured 4 years earlier in Russia and was the work of one M. M. Rudnev, who founded the St Petersburg School of Pathology. Etymological exactitude satisfied, I returned to my writings.